


The Start.

by mustangwrangler



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Blood and Violence, Childhood Trauma, Murder, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:04:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustangwrangler/pseuds/mustangwrangler
Summary: Only the cows called back, and he sobbed as the glint of a knife shone in the moonlight beaming through a window.





	The Start.

**Author's Note:**

> so apparently john was saved by the gang when he was 12, just before he was to be hanged. soooo, yknow. i decided to think up a scenario that would put little john in such a situation.

It hit him like a train, sending him crashing to the dirt. The double impact crushed the air from his lungs, and he gasped. On his next exhale he screamed like a wild animal as hands gripped hard and unforgiving. He thrashed and roared, teeth gnashing. 

His shirt ripped, a high and jarring sound. Pain exploded in his cheek as he was punched, and he panicked when big cold hands wrapped around his neck.

John screamed, guttural and raw. He kept thrashing and hitting and kicking. The man atop of him pressed down hard, choking him. In seconds, he began to feel the effects. His vision was darkening further and further, until the man was nothing but shapes. But his hand gripped something on the ground, a rock. He swung it as hard as he could, clobbering the stranger in the side of the head.

He was released, and the man gave an enraged shout as John scrambled away. He gasped for air as he fought to his feet. But he was brought down again by his ankle. So he kicked out, hitting the other square in the face as he moved to crawl over him. Another furious snarl. John came back with a battle cry of his own, reaching down into his free boot and drawing a dull knife. 

John screamed as he slammed it down into the stranger's hand. Free again, he took off. But he knew he was being chased. The adult was hot on his heels.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU FILTHY LITTLE MAGGOT!"

How'd he get here? He was only a boy of twelve. He never wanted this.

John could hear himself whimpering and yelping in terror a he ran hard. As he rounded the corner of a wood building, he tossed a look over his shoulder. The man had just barely been reaching for him, and he screamed at a pitch he'd never met before.

That man was going to kill him. So he pelted for the livery, and the barns. Cows spooked away from the fence as he tore into the area, the man just about on top of him. He swiped at him, fingers coiling around air and coming dangerously close to hooking his long and ratty head of hair. John could feel the tears boiling at his eyes, and his throat was raw as he cried out in terror. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" His scratchy voice was raw, further tearing at his throat.

He threw himself into the nearest barn, the interior somehow darker than the night outside. But he quickly found a ladder and took to climbing as the stranger tripped over something darting across the floor. "You fucking little worthless bastard! Cocksucker! Get back here!" John was gasping for air as he clambered up into the loft. He scrabbled through musty straw as the man came up after him. 

John had nowhere to go. He whipped around, backing himself into a corner. The man didn't slow. He charged him and grabbed him by the throat. With ease, he lifted John off of his feet. John screamed when he was slammed into the wall of the barn, an odd nail or two peircing his flesh. "NO! NO!! PLEASE!" He gripped uselessly at the man's arms.

Nobody came running. Only the cows called back and he sobbed as the glint of a knife shone in the moonlight beaming through a window. The man had an ugly, angry face. "You won't steal another fucking thing after this." He promised. 

John grit his teeth as tears started to track down his face. He snarled and kicked out hard. The man nearly doubled over, releasing John. He screamed as the nails ripped his skin, but he didn't quit. John grabbed the man's hand and bit into his thumb. The knife was dropped and the stranger staggered back, shocked to see blood run from the gash in his finger. John quickly snatched up the weapon and ran at the other, who's eyes bulged out his head.

The blade stuck deep into his chest with a sickening squelch, and John screamed in fury again before shoving him with all his might. The other fell back, off of the loft and onto the ground below with a dull thud. John stumbled to a halt at the edge of the loft, staring down at the body. The head tilted at an obscene angle, his neck ugly and deformed. His eyes wide. Dead.

Dust and straw danced in the moonlight, waltzing about and finally settling around and upon the body.

"WHAT THE HELL!?" 

John felt his heart leap out of him and he whipped around to look into the doorway. The shape of a man stood there, casting a long shadow into the barn. Their eyes met. Then the man took off, leaving small clouds of dust in his wake.

"SHERIFF!!" He heard in the near distance.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for readin. feel free to leave a comment!


End file.
